Memoirs of a Glaceon Maid
by Lostwisher
Summary: The first seven, turmoil-filled years of a peculiar Glaceon born via very interesting circumstances, as told by her many years after the fact. This details the life she lived under her master in almost total isolation in the frozen north of Snowpoint City in a very slice-of-life way. I've given this an M rating for topics of abuse, but this story is more or less safe for work.
1. First Entry - February 13th, 2018

**February 13th, 2018**

Oh dear.

How do I even begin this entire… project, I suppose? I don't know if that word is entirely appropriate, but it's what I'm going with for the time being. I'm afraid I don't have a thesaurus on paw. I suppose I can start by properly introducing myself. My name is Nanani, and at the time of writing I am eleven years old, my birthday being on the twenty fifth of September. I reside at the great estate of William Matsuki a few miles north of Mahogany Town, very near the world-famous Lake of Rage, working as the resident housekeeper, and living quite comfortably as a part of the big and loving family we have here.

Anyway, Miss Wicke, Branch Chief of the Aether Foundation has informed me that she is attempting to compile rather lengthy memoirs from those of us who… survived creation at the hands of the Sinnoh Institution for…

I believe, Pokemon Reconstitution? Or perhaps it was Reconstruction. Hopefully this will get proofread at some point, naturally by myself, though. I must admit I'm… quite detached from this situation as a whole. Miss Wicke informed me of all the details and information regarding the Institution. It is where I was born. But I was so young when I left. Not yet a month old, in fact. To this day I have absolutely no recollection of the place. Just that it's where I was bred. And how could I not know this? Or at least, second guess where I came from? Even sheltered as I was, I knew I was different. Some would call it extraordinary, but what's so beyond average as a Pokemon with limited mobility and no inherent or natural abilities, hm? I have other talents, certainly, but I find comparing myself to other Glaceon to be a… futile effort. If anything I'm more prone to compare myself to other people. To humans. I can follow their example closest, after all.

To the uninformed reader, I, like many of the Pokemon who were born at the Institution (I believe the proper acronym is SIPR, which is what I will henceforth refer to it as), was bred for a singular mechanical, yet… gravely aesthetic purpose. I am a Glaceon, certainly, but I have a very mixed ancestry, as I've been told. I'm afraid I don't know the ins and outs of how it all works, but I can walk on my hind legs much like any other biped. I know it sounds strange, but it's simply the way my body is, and I've always come to accept it. I also possess… what could best be described as a combination of hands and paws. My digits are not conjoined, they are longer, and as such I can naturally hold and grasp objects without any trouble. As I said before, I do not possess any sort of common Pokemon ability. I cannot battle, I cannot produce any sort of ice attacks. In fact, my body temperature is more comparable to that of a Stoutland.

Dear me, I already feel like I've explained myself far too much, but I must continue.

Another distinguishing feature is my fur. Glaceon are supposed to be able to sharpen their fur into quills when threatened or in any sort of danger. And once again, no. I can do nothing of the sort. My fur is rather thin and soft. For all intents and purposes, I simply look like a Glaceon more than anything else. That said, I was in fact born an Eevee. That much is true. Genetically I am still meant to be a Glaceon. But…

Goodness me, I could have been anything, and it truly wouldn't have mattered that much. ...Keyword being "wouldn't," of course. It does matter, and I am proud of who I am, and the way I look. But I don't know if it would have had much of an effect on how my life panned out.

Then again, had I not been an Eevee, I doubt he would have chosen me.

I'll talk about "him" tomorrow. I should be getting ready for bed now. I'm certain I'll have more to say as I become accustomed to all of this.


	2. Second Entry - February 15th, 2018

**February 15th, 2018**

So, I've already missed a day, it seems… Off to a good start with this and whatnot. But, anyway. Today I'm going to write about… him. His name was Michael, but I didn't learn that until much, much later in life. I always called him Master. He never told me anything else, nor did I ever hear anyone call him by his real name.

The Institution had placed me in an open auction the highest bidder. I was… quite literally put upon a podium and paid for by some strange man sitting in the audience. Though, he wasn't an ordinary strange man by any means. He was… incredibly wealthy. He brought me to his home straightaway, a rather large house on the outskirts of Snowpoint, Sinnoh, at the most northern tip of the entire region. Of the entire world to some. Of course the city was simply notorious for its climate.

...No, I think I'll save that for a later entry. I should talk about Michael for now. He was… not particularly outstanding for a human despite his wealth. He was about average in height. Thin… a little wiry. Throughout the day he was always dressed in such casual attire. Every now and then I'd catch him in a polo, or even a t-shirt on the hottest of summer days. But, he almost exclusively wore button-up tops. I swear, he had one in every color imaginable. No matter how many loads of laundry I did, there were always at least half a dozen… And khakis. Goodness, did he love his khaki pants. I think he may have owned one pair of blue jeans, and one pair of shorts for gardening work. He was such a consistent fellow. Oh, and he had wavy hair. Exceptionally so. I never thought much of it until I saw a film from the nineteen eighties and noticed that… well, that was exactly the same hairstyle all the men wore. So perhaps he was… a bit outdated.

Thinking back on it, how old he was the day I saw him last… he must have been thirty-five the day he brought me home… But I digress.

Like I said, he was wealthy. His home was rather large and… it sticks in my mind to this day so vividly. How could it not, I… I scrubbed every inch of it more times than I cared to count. Now in hindsight, it's easy to say that Michael was a horrible man. He made some truly awful mistakes. Especially in regards to how he made his money.

But, I don't know. I've been told countless times that… that tinge of sympathy I still have for him is a product of… how manipulative he was. How controlling he was. And perhaps they're right to say it. But, no matter how much I think over the years we spent together. I can't bring it in me to say he was a bad human being. Not from the start, anyway. I think something changed in him…

From the first day he was less a friend and more… a father figure to me. He knew exactly what he wanted me to be. And while ever-patient, he was stern in his teaching. He taught me first how to read and write… and other such basic lessons that would translate into the various tasks he would eventually have for me. He taught me the importance of tidiness, and how to handle a feather duster. Then a broom, soon followed by a mop… Then came the glass, and most importantly how not to leave streaks.

Mind you, these were the first few years of my life. To anyone wondering how, do keep in mind that… traditionally, Pokemon mature quite rapidly and I was able to pick up these things before I had even reached the age of two. Which was in fact the age he decided it was time to have me… evolve.

I had no choice in the matter, of course. Frankly, at the time, I didn't even know there was a choice. But… no, I don't in any way regret what I've become. Glaceon just made far too much sense, especially due to our living conditions. That's not to say I was immune to the cold, no. Not by any stretch. But I do feel like I can handle it better than most.

Anyway, I'm getting off topic again.

The thing I remember most about Michael. The Michael I knew as Master, and as the human who raised me, was that he was incredibly gentle, and incredibly protective. Not stifling, might I add. He was very keen on allowing me to find my own hobbies and do what I like with my own free time. The only rule that one could construe as… alarming was the fact that I could under no circumstances ever leave the house without his supervision. Not the property, but the house itself. Mind you, this house sat on quite a lot of fenced land. But… I suppose he didn't even want anyone to see me without him. I later learned why, but it was still puzzling.

Now I understand a bit more.

He was my father, through and through. For the first… I would say three years of my life. What happened after that I'll save for later. But I want you to know, whoever reads this. That this man raised me to be… kind. Unabashedly so. He raised me to live in pursuit of service, to help others, to be gentle… To be what I am today. And he did… nothing to me. Nothing wrong. Not from the outset. And that's why I don't hate him. Despite everything that came later. I simply can't.

Now you know about him. I suppose tomorrow I should talk about my home. Both the house I grew up in, as well as Snowpoint itself.


	3. Third Entry - February 16th, 2018

**February 16th, 2018**

Snowpoint City is a… highly underrated place, I think it's quite fair to say. Most people and pokemon - and understandably so - see it as cold, desolate and empty. And for much of the year it is. The seasons have this strange effect on Snowpoint that, as I would later learn, is quite different from the rest of the known world. But, there are a couple hidden beauties that few people even know about that exist there.

First and foremost is the way the city looks in the summer months. From about mid-autumn to late spring, Snowpoint is absolutely covered in white. But starting in May, a very rapid springtime occurs, where all the flowers and trees burst with life, as if in a rush to do so, and… well I can safely say I've never seen a prettier shade of green. Due to all the moisture from the melt and the fact that the summers never achieve anything even remotely "hot," everything stays that way. It's absolutely delightful, and I wish more people knew about it… But I suppose it is an unknown. We never got many tourists, no matter the weather.

And, I suppose that is the other beautiful thing about Snowpoint. It's the seclusion. There are plenty of people that live there year round, so I can assure you the city never quite dies. But no matter when you visit it's very… calm. Little happens, and everyone who lives there knows the name and face of everyone else. It's such a big and happy community. When the weather clears the city is abuzz with all sorts of activity. And even after the first snowfall, when everyone returns to their homes, everyone looked out for one another. Even I would welcome visitors from time to time when Michael was away. All the neighbors (and I must stress I use that term loosely) knew very little about him, but still they would come by, usually with a tray of cookies or a blanket and we'd… sit and chat for a while. I think the conditions made for people who were very down-to-earth. ...Very real and present. Very friendly.

Even now I miss quite a lot them.

What I do not miss was the house itself. Now I don't mean to say it was quite objectively wretched. In fact, the home I grew up in was quite exquisite. But it became a chore to keep up with. I believe in total the house was over five thousand square feet or… four hundred and fifty square meters. It was comprised of three floors, though to call the upstairs a proper floor isn't entirely accurate. The main floor made up the majority of the house. It had a very lavish lounge complete with a stone fireplace and three sets of couches that more or less encircled the space in front of it. This was what you'd see as soon as you came in through the front door. Which was… massive. It had its own custom locking mechanism that I still to this day don't quite understand. And I believe it was made of cherry…

Anyway, the kitchen was to the immediate right of the lounge, and the hallway that led to the rest of the house on the opposite side of the room. The kitchen was a little cramped, if I'm being honest. Counter space was a mere suggestion, with all of the appliances huddled together. And everything else was cabinets… So many cabinets. Organized as I was, I had to eventually persuade Michael to label every one of them so that I could stay on top of things. You had to pass through the kitchen to reach the dining room as well. It was the only way in, save for the sliding back door that led to the deck. The dining room was posh as well, with a table large enough for sixteen chairs. Though most of the time they were set to the side, unless Michael was hosting one of his rare parties. For the most part it was just the two of us there for dinner. Occasionally he had a person he would call one of his "clients," though what for I still don't fully…

...no, maybe I do know. ...Regardless.

The hallway had three doors on the left, two on the right, and one at the very end. I remember this rather vividly. The first door led downstairs to the basement. Somewhere I was… almost never allowed. This was where Michael conducted his business. Yes, he did work from home, though it was so far detached you may as well have considered it a separate building. The stairs reached far below, as much as four flights of stairs before you found yourself in another hallway. And in these rooms-

...Actually, I should probably save that for another time as well.

The second door on the left was my bedroom. It wasn't anything particularly big. It had enough space for a bed, two dressers and a small walk-in closet, with one large window that presented such a beautiful view… This was at the front of the house, mind you. And with the house positioned up on a hill, you could see the entire city from my bedroom. I… I definitely do miss that. Though the view I have now is pretty comparable. But I digress. My bed was initially a twin, but when I evolved, Michael upgraded it to a queen. ...It was incredibly comfortable. No matter how hard I worked each day, it was a lovely thing to return to my bed and read a few chapters or finish my knitting before I dozed off…

Um, the third door on the left led to the upstairs, and this went right over my bedroom. As such the ceiling was slanted, but luckily it was rare for anyone to venture up there, anyway. I should say, the upstairs was merely a large balcony which doubled as the entertainment center. Michael had a theater system complete with speakers, a sectional to sit on... and the railing overlooked the lounge. The entire house had one massive vaulted ceiling with a chandelier I thankfully only had to ever clean twice in my life. I would occasionally venture up there to watch some television after I had completed all of my chores, but much like the extra chairs in the dining room, the upstairs was almost exclusively reserved for parties.

The last door at the end of the hall was Michael's bedroom. And it was certainly a suite.

Now, it was rare that I ever set foot in there. He never asked me too. Not even to tidy up. That was his space, and I was only asked to respect it. He had a king size bed, his own personal bathroom, a much larger walk in closet, the latter two I… I don't think I ever even saw. I just knew they were there. Like I said, it was rare. And I was obedient. Perhaps to a fault. But I never explored where I shouldn't have. I didn't need to.

Well, I suppose that isn't entirely true, but again. I'll save that for another time.

The two doors on the right consisted of /my/ bathroom, which was essentially the guest bath. It had a tub and a shower, rather than a combination, which I always thought was a little unnecessary, if only because it gave me more to clean when I was the only one using them. We kept the towels in the bathroom too. I didn't think much of it at the time, having a dedicated closet /in/ the bathroom just for towels, rather than elsewhere in the house, but in hindsight that is a bit odd. I suppose it was somewhat convenient, if rarely. ...And then the last door led to the laundry room, where I kept all of my cleaning supplies. This room also had a door that led to the backyard, and even then I thought that was somewhat odd. Why the laundry room of all places..? Oh, it doesn't matter.

Speaking of the backyard, and the property itself, the whole of our five acres was enclosed by a white picket fence. The backyard was pretty plain. Michael didn't fancy gardening much and- while I did to an extent, I didn't have the greenest thumb, so a few hanging baskets during the summer and a couple of plots I'd have to replant every year were all I needed. The rest was simply lawn. So much open space it… was quite effective in eliminating the claustrophobia you would think I had during my seven years in that house. To me it was a lot. Everything seemed larger than life, though I suppose when I had nowhere to go but up, I was easily impressed.

Now that's not to say I never left home. As I said before, I was allowed to leave with Michael's supervision. In fact, it was routine of us to go on a jog three mornings a week. We had a preset route that took us into town and back. I desperately needed the exercise, and it was a breath of fresh air I always looked forward to.

I don't know if it was the "psychological games" Michael played with me, but almost never did I have that urge to leave. Almost never did I have that urge to see what else was out there. This was home. It was my space, my life, and I felt safety and security.

Almost never.


	4. Fourth Entry - February 18th, 2018

**February 18th, 2018**

I don't even know where to begin with this part. It's rather difficult because, there are many things I've told absolutely nobody. Not that I've meant to keep it a secret, mind you. When I was six years old I… had an incredibly traumatic experience. Or rather, a culmination of several. I was later diagnosed with a form of psychogenic amnesia, though rather mild, it's a bit more… severe than any sort of repressed memory syndrome. It certainly comes and goes, and I'll do my best to recount these events in spite of it. Talking about these things can… make things worse for me sometimes.

I'll start from the beginning of course. Or rather, just after the beginning. I already told you how Michael was a truly good person at the start. He took care of me more than well enough. Just before my third birthday was when things really started to change. I had by then just about finished growing, and… well, filling out, to put things mildly. I always knew I had rather… striking features. Michael would make comments from time to time (nothing out of line ever, I assure you), and I noticed the wandering eyes whenever we went on our morning jogs. Occasionally a male would try and strike up a conversation with me, but Michael never had any of it, quickly shooing them away. Mind you, this was at the same time I had really begun to dedicate as much free time as I could to learning how to fashion clothes together. Michael would bring me home books from the city library whenever he went into town for groceries and the like, and I learned very quickly, I must say. Even though he was happy to buy me whatever clothes I wanted, I took the initiative to put my own wardrobe together. All made by own paws. And well, I was proud of it. You couldn't catch me in anything but an elaborate, yet darling outfit. I always asked Michael for critique as well, and he had such sweet things to say… When he called me a princess, I…

...I'll stop. So, um. As I said, there were many males vying for my attention during the rare opportunities I had to go out into the city and meet other faces. It was refreshing, but I must admit, the young adult in me was rather annoyed that Michael wouldn't let any of them converse with me. Of course I wanted to chat. A few of them were even somewhat attractive, and piqued my interest as a result. How could they not? In hindsight, maybe a few of them weren't quite as good looking as I thought they were at the time, but I was a nearly grown female. Could you blame me?

Then came Michael's first business trip. These were a regularity for him before he brought me home, but for three years he had put them off in an effort to keep me safe. Some ground rules were laid before he left, of course. It was one week, and I wasn't to leave the property while he was gone, but he had stocked up on supplies, left me with more books than I could fathom, he left me a few movies as well, and instructed me to… relax. Simply relax, while he was gone. It was to be my vacation too, even if I couldn't go with him, and who was I to say no to that?

From the moment he was gone I kept myself plenty occupied, from what I remember. My free time was always quite crammed and this was no exception. However, that first evening I was paid a visit. No sooner had I retired to my bedroom and changed into my pajamas, when I heard a gentle tap at my window. Sure enough, there was a Pokemon situated up on the windowsill. A Leafeon, to be exact. Now you would probably ask what a grass type is doing in Snowpoint, but at the time it was late summer which at times did lead to certain Pokemon migrating up north for the cooler weather. As it would also turn out, this Leafeon had a trainer, because I did in fact open the window without hesitation. As nice as the privacy had been for that one day, I was eager to chat with somebody. To my surprise, I was charmed from the moment we began to talk.

His name was Liam, and I recognized him as one of the wandering eyes from my many jogs prior. He was only there for the summer with his trainer, but he was often out and about, and every so often we would cross paths as Michael and I made our way through the downtown area. Do keep in mind how small Snowpoint is, and how recognizable that would make everyone. Do I know the exact extent of his… well, I suppose you could call it stalking. He had waited for me, certainly. But he wasn't hostile. He was… sweet. Incredibly so.

And it certainly helped that he possessed a subtle Kalosian accent.

Dark as it was, I informed him of the rules that were given to me, and he obliged. He would not enter my room, and I would not leave it. So we talked for… what must have been hours, with him atop the windowsill, while I was reclined on the bed. He took every opportunity to compliment me, to call me beautiful. Surely now I know how tremendously hard he was trying but, at the time I was quite smitten. He was rather good-looking himself, possessing powerful features and such a gentle demeanor. After so long he bowed his head and departed, and I was quick to shut my window before heading off to bed.

The next day was much the same. To my surprise, he returned at just the same time, as I was preparing for bed. And again, how I could not oblige? We had hit it off so well the night before. However the conversation was a little less casual, as he asked me a bit more about myself, and I probably told a bit more than I should have. Nevertheless, the conversation was just as cordial, despite his flirtatious nature.

Please keep in mind, I was so stupid. So naive at this time, I… I couldn't help but fall for him. What was I supposed to think? Used to my environment as I was, I always felt a little stifled. An inability to express myself, and I was an extrovert. I found it very easy to talk to anybody, and he was no exception. I walked right into his paws. But, at the time I didn't care. He left again on the second night, though I foolishly let him play off the romantic and kiss my paw before he left. I was giggling like a schoolgirl. Goodness, how embarrassing.

The third day… I didn't even leave my bedroom. I walked to the window the moment I awoke and threw it open. Then I waited. As it turned out, Liam wasn't all that calculated, arriving just before noon, and seeing me waiting for him this time must have caught him off guard. Nevertheless, he played up the charmer, and naturally I swooned.

And then I did something so stupid I… I always regretted it. I think this was the catalyst for everything that came afterward. At least, I thought it was. I blamed myself for so long, but I wouldn't learn until much later that… this wasn't as horrible of a mistake as I had thought.

Anyway, I invited him in.

We spent the whole of the day together. After I cleaned him up and made sure he wouldn't track anything on the carpet - and yes, /I/ cleaned him up - we simply stayed with each other. I should walk back and say I did leave the bedroom after that. We did a few various things together. I gave him a tour, explained what I did - all of which he seemed to just accept, which thinking back should have raised a few red flags. But he wasn't very inquisitive anymore. He knew well enough and I was an idiot.

And then came nightfall. Sparing you the details, you can easily assume what happened next. He had gotten what he'd initially came for at least.

The following morning he urged me to leave with him, which was something I found completely absurd and out of the question, so I declined. His entire demeanor changed from suave and confident to nervous and frantic. I genuinely think he was worried about me. Probably because he knew. He knew what I wouldn't feel until the following day. Remember this was four days into the week, and Michael would be home soon. After I declined, Liam told me he could only stay with me until Michael returned. Which was certainly understandable. I knew Michael would be furious if he found the Leafeon here. Those last couple of days were rather… strange. He never quite settled down, and on the second day I came to the realization that I was pregnant.

Something I had never known that was… apparently the case with most of the experiments for SIPR was this exponentially increased fertility. Again, this was something I wouldn't learn until later, but this is why Michael tried to keep the males away from me. And… this is also why said males always seemed so eager. I didn't… connect the dots quickly enough. Not until immediately after Liam left. And he left so... dejectedly. So humiliated. I think he had tried to persuade me to go with him until the very end.

And when Michael found out…

He didn't find out right away, but.

...He had never hit me before that moment.


	5. Fifth Entry - February 19th, 2018

**February 19th, 2018**

To… get the first part out of the way. No, I was not permitted to keep the egg. Michael… sold it off rather quickly. As for the fit of rage he… well, he was actually quite remorseful. I know it's ludicrous he even took it that far, and I probably shouldn't have fallen for it, but the incident actually sent the both of us into a depression of sorts. I had never seen him so upset. When he was angry, but also when he was groveling and begging for forgiveness. Granted I… I was so stunned, I immediately forgave him, but he spent the following days trying to make it up for me. He seemed so out of sorts, and I'm not entirely sure it was because of what I did. Or what he had done for that matter.

I later learned that the trip he had taken was nothing short of a disaster. He had lost multiple clients and a big… "project" failed in the process. So he was understandably in a rotten mood. I… suppose his emotions simply got the better of him when he had seen that I had disobeyed, and he lashed out. But that doesn't make it right, of course. I didn't resent him, of course.

...No, it only made me fear him.

This was only the beginning however. Not of a pattern of physical abuse, mind you. But moreso… Michael's downward spiral. From this point on he was never quite the same as I remembered. He was no longer the calm but stern presence. The well-kempt, but dorky man I had been raised by. Over time he became… increasingly disheveled, and rife with anxiety. So much so that, it was about the time where I too developed anxiety of my own. I think it rubbed off on me a bit. He stammered more, seemed a bit more twitchy and indecisive. Always looking over his shoulder even in his own house. He had never used substances or alcohol before, but months after the trip, the refrigerator was regularly stocked with a case or two. I never had any myself, but he would have a can or two almost nightly. Just enough to help him relax and eventually sleep.

I used to always fall asleep before him, but at this point in time it was common for me to attend to all the curtains and lights around the house. He always turned in early. He had become so strange. So much more reclusive. And over time it worsened. By the time of my fourth birthday, we had practically switched places. I was handling the affairs of the house. I was entrusted with his account and… I paid all the bills, I handled the groceries and the phone calls. Michael was more or less confined to his office in the basement throughout the day, and shut up in his room in the evening.

This did allow me more free reign. He had loosened the restraints, and I was free to come and go as I pleased, as long as I always wished him a good night every evening. You would think this improved my social life, and in some ways it did, but I was never busier than I was at this time. Before this, Michael had handled all of the duties outside the home, while I did the majority of the cleaning. Now I was doing both. And my free time… well, I only had less. I stopped and chatted with others from time to time, but it was rare. It was always casual. For the first few weeks, everyone wanted to talk to the strange Glaceon that could walk on her hind legs and hold an interesting conversation, but that novelty wore off soon enough.

I had never felt more alone than I did during this period of my life. Yes, I had fresh air… places to go, people to talk to, occasionally I had to deal with another male hitting on me from time to time, but it was never with the person I had grown most attached to in my short life.

And then summer came, and two changes came with it. The summer of my fourth year, mind you. I would be five at the very end of it. Much to my surprise, Liam returned. As it turned out, his trainer had turned traveling to Snowpoint during the hottest months into a habit, and the Leafeon went out of his way (much to his surprise to see me out and about on my own), to meet up with me again. As awful as our previous experience had been, I needed company, and he was willing to oblige. Every day while he was there, he accompanied me on my errands in town. We would simply talk about life. I would express my concerns with the way things were (I had gotten the aftermath of our first encounter out of the way quickly, but I won't divulge the drama and details that came with that exchange. It's useless now, really), and he would talk to me about all of the changes in his life. He had his frustrations and woes, but mostly good things to say. It was strange how, this time things were so much more cordial. I don't think attempting a repeat of our first encounter ever even crossed his mind. He was certainly more casual and cordial this time around. And for that I was rather grateful. He was simply a friend to me for the few months he could be. That's not to say he wasn't a flirt, but I think that was just his nature. Just a few weeks before my fifth birthday, he and his trainer departed Snowpoint. I don't know if they ever returned, but it was the last time I would ever see him.

No, I was not in love with him at the time, I assure you. I was still a stupid, young female with a wandering eye, but I knew even then that such a notion was ridiculous. That said, the following few weeks after he had left consisted of a rather depressed shadow of my former self. My friend was gone, and my other- at that point, it had been over a year. I don't think I could call him a friend anymore. My "master" as I called him, was purely neglectful. And I was truly sad. Truly lonely and soon enough trapped, as the first snowfall of the year came early. Just days before my birthday.

That was unquestionably the worst birthday I ever had. I vividly remember crying for hours, and…

...oh dear. Yes, it was a very rough day.


	6. Sixth Entry - February 20th, 2018

**February 20th, 2018**

Upon sitting down and… putting pen to paper, I am truly at a loss for words, yet I have so much to tell. I simply don't know where to begin, recounting events that… all but destroyed my life. I assure you, I'm not being melodramatic. I'm just truly and utterly… shocked. Shocked that I was apart of this, but moreso… shocked that I let it happen. Shocked that I was so willing. Because I allowed myself to be subjugated to this. ...Even if I may have not had a choice in the matter, even if I didn't have it in me to protest… I still didn't.

...okay, now I think I do know where to begin.

After my fifth birthday, the winter had already set in well enough. It was early this year, even for Snowpoint. Mind you at this time it was only October, and we usually didn't see the first snowfall until the end of the month at the absolute earliest. Part of me believed at the time that… it was meant for me. To endure the longest and harshest winter yet, so that I might come out of it stronger. Perhaps Liam would return next summer and I could… finally take him up on that offer after all. Anything was better than this. We were snowed in on the regular. On the off chance once per week I could make a run to the supermarket, I usually had to dig my way out. That on top of the hike into town… hauling the groceries back in my bag. That alone put me out most days. I never was the most physically equipped, in case it wasn't obvious.

Christmas was approaching.

I still rarely saw Master, even now. He was always down there, doing something. Occasionally we would have visitors over, and he would bring them down, but… I was on my own, for what it's worth. The loneliness was excruciating.

Until one day - I remember the date too, oddly enough - December the fifth. This was the day that… everything changed yet again. Everything turned from… isolation and depression to… this.

Master woke me up that day much to my surprise. Usually he was downstairs well before the sun had risen, which was about when I was up and about, performing the day's usual tasks. He… talked to me, for about a full hour. About all manner of things. About how sorry he was. About how… he wanted to make amends.

And then he asked of me, if I would be willing to do my part. He asked me for help. He told me that he would need me to save our home. Our finances had been slipping for the past year, and his business was struggling. So he needed… other outlets. Even then I still didn't know what he did. I had never questioned how he made his money, because it didn't matter to me. It wasn't my place to ask.

By the end of the day I would know.

He took me downstairs, somewhere I had gone so infrequently. I had never in my life seen the rooms on either side of the hall. He always kept them locked. At the end of that hall was his office. I had seen it before. A room full of electronic equipment. Computers, a few monitors hung up above the door, as well as plenty of other wires and cables that connected to other pieces of machinery. Even now… the best I can come up with was that it was all part of one extremely powerful computer. Master used it to make… media. Pictures and movies to be exact.

The room on the right was where these pictures and these films were shot. This room had many cameras, and a single… large, red velvet-lined bed. Master had made his fortune in pornographic film. His clientele had always been humans. The people he invited over, well it was a bit more involved than I had noticed. Usually the majority of them had arrived before I ever woke up most days. They were large-scale projects, and I was completely unaware - rather, uneducated. I had never known, because I had never asked.

Now, there in that room, Master asked of me, if I would be willing to participate. As he now filmed… Pokemon in the act. He was asking me if I would be willing to use my body for our collective financial gain. I'll admit, the emotion in me at the time was nothing short of complicated. I was humiliated. I was… sad. I was in some ways mortified. I knew what he was asking of me. Maybe not quite so much as I do now in hindsight, but I wasn't that stupid. Yet I nodded without hesitation. I remember the thought crossed my mind at that moment. If I said no, he may have hit me again.

I don't think he would have. He had only done it once, more than two years ago. Yet, our relationship had crumbled so much. There was so little there between us after twenty six months of increasing neglect, I didn't know what to think of him anymore. So I obliged. I gave myself up.

The remainder of that extended… that excruciating winter was a living hell. It was unquestionably the worst time of my life even looking back. I can safely say I had never been lower. I spent every single day in that room, a new male present each time. Hours passed, doing as I was told. My whole life I had lived as a maid. I was known through Snowpoint as such, but I never considered myself someone who truly lived in servitude of another, let alone as a slave. Those five months however, were just that. I never protested, I

...apologies for the smudges. I would get another sheet of paper, but I don't think I can bring myself to write this again. For my own sake I'll… cut to the chase.

April of that year, the snow had begun to finally dwindle. The year had been a record never before seen by Snowpoint. Seventy six feet in total from late September until mid-April of the following year. It was unprecedented, and while a sign of a strong Spring and Summer to come, more importantly it meant respite. For a small city such as Snowpoint… criminal activity is quite unheard of. Though, a large part of that has to do with the law enforcement. That's not to say calls aren't made and… reports aren't processed. Situations absolutely take place, but Snowpoint's police department always drew criticism for its rather lax handling of situations during colder months, often blaming the harsh winter months for increasingly slow response times.

…I didn't find it coincidental that everything came crashing down the same day the first flower bloomed again in our garden.

I awoke to a ruckus coming from the foyer, and hurried to find Master being held against the hardwood by two officers, putting him in handcuffs even as I stood there in utter shock. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, but I can't say a tinge of relief didn't well up inside of me at that moment in time. As they led him away, however, one of the officers called out to me. "Missus Nanani" they said, which still rings in my head as a most highly inappropriate prefix at the time, but regardless. They asked me in a manner gentler than I had heard in what felt like ages. At the time I was… well, I was expecting, to put it briefly. So, with their help I returned to the station. I met with many humans that day. Lawful and good people, who were… awash with courtesy and kindness to me. Something I couldn't believe, nor could I have hoped to expect.

A call had been put out by a few residents after I hadn't been heard from for a few weeks. Those weren't the only calls, however, as it turned out Master had… quite the criminal record built up over the last couple of years. Ever since he had returned from his trip. Talks of extortion, bribery, fraud, smuggling illegal substances, the sheer notion of running a pornographic studio in his home raised several concerns as well, though I believe those were dismissed. And then abuse… after I recounted the events of that winter… many accounts of abuse, harassment and other such charges were brought before him. I couldn't believe it. My utter disbelief lasted for days, during which time I was treated… like a person. Not like a Pokemon. The same way I had always been treated by the people of Snowpoint. I suppose it was just the nature of who I was that warmed everyone up to me so considerably, but that didn't soften the blow.

I was given rights to the property and the house. I was given monetary legal compensation. I was given proper citizenship. All over the span of the next few months. As for the last egg I… well I hadn't kept the others, and I was in no condition to raise a pup on my own during this time, so I gave it away to one of my neighbors who had provided a testimonial on my behalf, and she accepted with honor. Every moment henceforth was so hard, yet so rewarding. A perfect mix of tragedy and retribution.

Until Master paid off his bail.

The moment I realized he had lied about our financial struggles. No, he wished to spend the last few months of his freedom outside of a cell. And… he was placed with me. Under total supervision and house arrest until that court date was set. I must admit I… initially feared for my life. How could I not? I couldn't imagine the anger he must have felt at the time towards me. I had testified against him - righteously so - and sealed his fate as a result. They expected twenty five years minimum, which would put him away for more than the remainder of my life. And to think he would try and end it all now with his rage and fury? Even now I don't think I was unreasonable for assuming such a thing.

But he never did. He never lashed out. He never… talked to me. I would bring him meals, as he never felt the need to leave his bedroom. And he never said a word for the entirety of those many months, well past my sixth birthday.

And as I said before, Liam never did return. Not that summer, anyway. But neither did the loneliness. Not this time. I made friends. So many friends. One of my closest was Kathy, a single mother who lived close to downtown. Every week or so I would visit her before heading off to the groceries. I would entertain her two children with a story every now and then, we would swap recipes, and occasionally catch a movie together. And then there was Ed - Edward - everyone called him Ed. He was an older man who would often play his guitar over by the recreational center for extra change. He was rather good, and I gave him a few tips every now and then. But in time he would ask for me. He wanted me to tell him about the latest book I'd read, or show him my latest outfit I'd sewn up. He had lost his wife to illness years ago and… he said.

...Talking with me reminded him of her. It made him feel whole again. And so I obliged as often as I could until winter set in again. That was… the last year he would play the guitar. He had become too old, and his hands could no longer strum the instrument. But I still paid him a few visits on occasion.

I loved those people. So dearly. It was always such a casual thing before… everything had happened. I had been someone living on the outskirts who would occasionally venture into town. But by now I was a part of the community. And, I was happy. So happy.

That's not to say things weren't hard still. Master received his court date and… I was asked by the same officer that had rescued me that day many months before to attend. And I missed it. Not because I had meant to. But because I had forgotten. And it wasn't the first time. I had been… sporadic in my ability to recall specific events ever since Master had been released on bail. With increasing frequency and sometimes… at much greater lengths. It wasn't always short term. There were nights where I couldn't even remember my Master's name, even as I laid awake trying to jog my memory for hours, frustrated with my own inability to think of it. No, this was the moment that saw me diagnosed. Psychogenic amnesia, as I was told. The longest lasting effect of what my doctor agreed was a traumatic experience. At the time, hearing such a thing was so foreign to me. That I could ever have been through something traumatic. It was such an alien prospect.

I had been sheltered for so long. How could I… have gone through trauma?

Excuse me as I take another non-sequitur here. I reread everything I've written today and… I rambled far longer than I intended, but I also put things out of order, it seems. I do apologize. Even in my attempt for absolute clarity it seems I couldn't put all the pieces together properly. I hope this wasn't confusing… I'll continue again tomorrow-

...No, maybe Thursday would be a bit better. I need to clear my head before I continue. I promise, from here on out, I'll have many more positive things to say. To conclude this entry as nicely as possible, he was given forty years of prison time, far and above the expected minimum, found guilty of most of the charges brought against him. This was in October of 2012. And I never thought I'd see him again. I had no reason to think so.

And from that moment on, I was Nanani, the little Glaceon lady who lived on the hill at the edge of Snowpoint. For the time being, anyway.


	7. Seventh Entry - February 22nd, 2018

**February 22nd, 2018**

I took a day to collect my thoughts. I was so scatterbrained in writing that last entry, and with good reason, I might add. In fact, I'll dedicate most of today's entry towards… why that is. I do think out of everything Michael asked of me, everything I obliged to, the thing that hurt me most was the seclusion. The months of taking care of everything on my own. That summer before everything fell apart was a respite. It was better, having Liam by my side for most of it, but the crushing depression I felt afterwards was far too much. It stuck with me in the form of trauma, stress, anxiety.

At the time of writing, Terror's been out for several days. Bless him. I haven't mentioned him yet, and I'll be sure to talk about him more in a later memoir. He is my husband, after all. Here I am, writing this in the confines of my home, surrounded by most of my family and friends; loved ones, and yet I can feel just a sliver of that loneliness. Only a sliver, mind you. Nothing even remotely comparable to what I felt back then. Heavens no. But it's a sharp reminder of what it does to me. Nothing was so poignant as the isolation.

My sixth year was nothing but that. I… can recall the details now. It's been some time since my last bout with onset amnesia, but before now this time of my life was mostly a blur. In some respects, it still is. I knew very little beyond what I had done to sustain Michael, myself and our home. I could certainly perform tasks for others, mind you. To keep myself occupied, I offered my services to a few other residents in Snowpoint. This kept my mind from idling; it kept my paws busy, and it was usually relatively easy work. I didn't need the money, after all. I had copious amounts in my possession now, and as a result my rates were incredibly low. I would have done it for free, if not for the insistence of those I worked for. On top of this, I dabbled in work as a seamstress. Usually patchwork, often seeing pairs of childrens' pants arrive at my doorstep with large holes worn into the knees. Sometimes I would stitch up a pair of socks or two. And, at the time I believe this only happened once, I was asked to fashion a pleated skirt from near scratch for a dear friend of mine who found herself in a bit of an emergency. Nevertheless, it turned out great, and I knew that this was indeed going to be my most fruitful passion in life.

Amidst it all, I had to keep a rigorous schedule. I had alarms set for various parts of the day. The middle of the day, even. I couldn't focus. I lost track of what I was doing often, one minute I was cleaning out the stove after cooking and delivering a casserole to the justice department as a thank you for everything they had done, and the next minute I was wandering around with a swiffer in paw, curious as to why the oven door was ajar, and a pair of gloves were left out on the stove top.

I even experienced night terrors. Dreams I knew were there, as I awoke drowsy and disheveled after a long night of tossing and turning, and yet I couldn't recall a thing by then. Increasingly I began to worry… myself. At times I would sleep walk, or prepare meals and forget about them for days, leaving them to go bad in the refrigerator before realizing what I had done. There were nights where I left the television on, rather loudly at that, and I would awake at two or three in the morning, wondering why Michael was watching a program at such a ridiculous hour. And then it hit me, and I would… I would break down.

To combat this, it became routine for me to make multiple rounds throughout the house each morning and evening, just to ensure nothing was left on or ajar, nothing was out of place, and I had not miraculously left the sink running in the middle of the night, flooding the bathroom by morning. I would habitually keep one of the dining room chairs in my own bedroom, and prop it against the door, preventing me from escaping in a half-slumber. And even then, some mornings I would awake to find it generously pushed to the side.

I experienced this for almost a year, and I was terrified of myself, but even moreso I was humiliated. Even though nobody else knew but my therapist. I had never been in such a state of disarray. I was always tired, I couldn't think straight, and yet I had lived all my life in a pinnacle state of order and organization. Summer was again a bit of a respite. The distractions I had gathered in the form of second and third jobs had done enough to keep me busy. Even though my own night antics never ceased, it was much easier to cope having a friendly chat with a neighbor the following morning. I craved that interaction.

Possibly more than I even realized.

My seventh birthday was approaching by summer's end, and I was worried about the days and seasons to come yet again. But more than that, I began to worry if I was simply just… getting old. My therapist informed me of the lifespans of most canine Pokemon and I wondered if… maybe I was reaching the second half of my life, and parts of me were starting to fade. None of these fears helped matters at all, naturally. And while in time these very fears would be assuaged, another big change in my life was coming that I never in a million years could have anticipated prior to this point.


	8. Eighth Entry - February 23rd, 2018

February 23rd, 2018

I can't quite recall even now the last couple of weeks before all of this went down. I believe I was still struggling to operate, a bit out of sorts due to the colder weather setting in, as well as my lack of work. I was pretty much relegated to keeping the house clean and… keeping myself busy with all manner of hobbies. This was likely to be a very boring period of my life until a certain… someone came knocking.

Oh dear, where do I even begin with this? So, believe it or not. This… pale, possibly albino Lucario arrived on my doorstep. Apparently searching for additional members for a "crew" of his. Bear in mind, I was totally caught off guard and… no, I did not accept any offer he made. He was exceptionally keen to hit on me and butter me up, but I found the whole ordeal rather uncomfortable, no matter how long we chatted for. That said, he was not alone. Two pokemon I had never seen before this moment were with him as well. A Flaaffy and a Swadloon, the former female and the later male. Such a ragtag bunch had apparently stopped off in Sinnoh to fuel up and gather supplies for a large ship docked to the far east of Snowpoint. I had never in my life seen the ocean despite only living a few dozen miles away from it, as mountains on all sides generally kept us rather isolated, and I had never left Snowpoint in my life. That said, I agreed to accompany them to at least see the ship (more than anything to humor the Lucario - goodness he was a pest), and off I went. Much to my surprise, it was more than a day's journey. I had never spent a night out in the elements, and it was simply dreadful, no matter how well bundled up I was. Despite the Lucario's ceaseless advances, his two comrades made up for his… rather uncouth behavior. The Flaaffy was a bit of an... eccentric sweetheart, and the Swadloon an incredibly intelligent and down-to-earth fellow who could converse with just about anyone on almost any subject. He read a lot as well, and as such we had plenty to talk about. As it turned out, the boat I had been told such grand tales about was more or less a disaster, barely held together and vaulting what must be several safety regulations. I can't imagine it didn't raise many eyebrows in busier ports.

That said, of course the Lucario continued his attempts to… grab my attention, I suppose. We spent a couple of days here, most of my time talking to the crew members and doing all I could to avoid the Lucario. That is, until he gave me another… more forceful invitation to join. It was clear to me that his intentions were rather disturbing, and with a little helpful intervention from my Swadloon friend, I readied my things again and left back for home, a full three days later.

Now you might ask, what was the point of all of this? Well, as it may sound strange, despite Liam I had never in my life had much full-scale interaction with… Pokemon. All of my time was spent chatting with and being around humans growing up. I had next to nothing in the way of relationships with other Pokemon, and this little adventure, despite its setbacks, caused a change in me. A change that… may have been too ambitious, but I wondered if it was the key to combating my unfortunate penchant for loneliness. Humans are… unfortunately not quite as durable as Pokemon. They can't handle drastic weather conditions, and as such are less freely available in the winter months of Snowpoint, harsh as they are. And so I wondered if… perhaps I would need to pull things back a bit. Allow myself to live a bit more freely and more… similar to my kind if I wished to lead a life of happiness again, especially now that I was so alone. Of course, I am practically worthless as Pokemon myself. I've said this many times. I simply cannot forfeit all of the comforts and protections I'm so used to, but I could at least stand to make myself more available.

And so I moved out. Yes, I… I essentially shut down the home I had lived in my whole life. Utterly and completely. I used the bank account to turn everything off. The water, the electricity, the heat. Everything, and essentially locked the doors until I was ready to sell the place. I moved everything I had, or at least wished to keep across town with the help of some of my friends, all in the span of no less than a week after my little adventure with the ragtag crew. There was a small home that had been up for sale for years, a seasonal home by someone who did not live in Snowpoint, with only two bedrooms and two bathrooms. This house was less than a thousand square feet. Less than a quarter than that of the home I had lived my entire life in, and I… I couldn't believe how much more I appreciated it. For the fact alone that it made cleaning so much easier, goodness. I cannot stress that enough. I could have all my chores done before lunch time every single day now. Oh it was lovely. But, not perfect of course. My aim was to… push myself out of the house. To not be bogged down by my pursuits and responsibilities so much that I remained cooped up inside all hours of the day and night. And this worked tremendously well from the start. I made it more of a habit, even as autumn and winter wore on, to venture out of the house more. Every single day I would go for a walk, as opposed to just a few times a week, all bundled up and cavorting with just about anyone willing to take the time to talk. Granted, this only happened for a few weeks.

Out one day for one of these walks, the snowfall was heavy as the first true white out of the year set in. I wanted to make things quick of course, and much to my surprise I came across an… Umbreon of all things. Yes, I know. You ask, what was an Umbreon doing in Snowpoint? I mean, after my little adventure with the ship's crew only a month or so before, I suppose nothing was too out of the ordinary of a sight. That said, this Umbreon was ill and struggling, and so I led him back to my home. He had nearly frozen to death out in the cold, and I spent the following few days nursing him back to health. His name was Nero, and… well, let's just cut to the chase on this one. I took a liking to him. Rather quickly. He was a bit timid, but very sweet. Always polite with many pleases and thank yous. And he provided me company. So much so that we got to know each other very quickly. And, what can I say? Two weeks after we had met, we had fallen for one another, and we were soon mates. This of course caused need for several adjustments from the start. He was entirely feral, having never lived domestically, and I was about as polar opposite to that as one could imagine. That said, he stayed with me, rather than the other way around, learning how to live in a household environment, and for months it was just… the two of us. I only say months because, Nero was quite the… eager fellow.

I've not yet talked about mating season because, it was nothing short of an uncomfortable time for me growing up. Dealing with a heat is rather excruciating when you're alone, and overall I - like I think most females - don't much care for process. But alas, it is unavoidable. And it, being my first one with another male about… well, to put things politely, I was expecting in no time whatsoever. Our first child, I… I named him after my dear old friend from those few summers ago. Liam. He was such a sweet pup from day one. His thing, having my genes of course, was art. He loved to draw, and I couldn't believe how able he was at it. I can hold a pencil and write, but my handwriting is nothing spectacular, and never for a moment have I fathomed myself creating works of art like a human could, but Liam had it in him. He spent most of his days trying to perfect his craft and… by the time he had evolved his artwork was absolutely stunning. Almost life-like.

Of course he wasn't alone. Not a few months later - I did mention how eager Nero was - we had another pup, named Macayla, a sweetheart as well, naturally. At first she was very clingy to her brother, but over time developed into a bit of a bookworm herself, always shut away in her room, learning to her heart's content.

Not a year prior I had been working as a part time maid and seamstress, still dealing with the legal ramifications of what Michael had left behind after his sentencing, working my paws to the bone just to keep myself busy and… by the following summer I had found a mate, and was the mother of two beautiful pups. Oh if… only things were so easy and simple. But, as it seems, my life was nothing if not constantly complicated.

Nero loved me dearly, and I loved him. For so long. Years in fact. And I hate to simply ignore huge reaches of time for now, but I said before that Nero and I are no longer together. I am married to Terror - I promise I'll have plenty to say about him soon - but I want to address what happened with Nero and I long before I talk about the… honestly few events that took place in the following years between then and just this past year.

It was complicated yes, but Nero was incredibly spacey. So much so that for long periods of time we never saw each other. We spent weeks, sometimes even months apart, as he set off doing who knows what. I never questioned it, and I myself wasn't entirely innocent either, as I later took on a job, but all this space caused a divide between us that I wasn't even prepared to admit was there until much later. Especially after Liam and Macayla had grown up and were old enough to make their own path. But we still had one other. More than a year after Macayla had been born, I had a third. And she- well, I had her completely on my own. I took care of her completely on my own. Nero vanished on me for… well over a month. Over the entire process of having our baby. I named her Dorothy, but Dot is what stuck, and rather fittingly, as she was exceptionally tiny and born under extremely dire circumstances. Rather than having my mate there to help me, as is common with Pokemon, I had to resort to doctors to keep my sweetheart alive. And I took care of her on my own for a small time, before Nero turned up again, with legitimately no good cause for his disappearance or where he had been.

It's safe to say things were never the same after that. Soon after this I took on a job - one I'll get into more here very soon - and Dot was essentially my daughter and mine alone. Though Nero tried to play his part as father yet again, Dot and I - we were inseparable. Now I know I'm leaving out plenty of details right now. As I said, I wish to keep things more on the level, and talk about the most important bits. While my life had changed drastically, it also put me back where I was after a long period of time. I had raised a family, but my two eldest were off living on their own, and my mate was… well, disinterested I think. I did all I could to be a loving and supportive mate - or at least all I knew how. But, I suppose it wasn't enough.

No, it was just me and my daughter. And my store. Oh, I cannot forget my store. I took out another lump sum of money and… in what I can only call a desperate attempt to find a place of peace and happiness, I decided to pursue my dream. That spring of 2015, I rented out a small outlet downtown near the shopping centre. Mind you, these little shops went in and out of rent on a near constant basis. So I decided to snatch one up with much of what was left of Michael's savings account and… I opened my own clothing store. Yes, believe it or not. A little Glaceon owning a shoppe on the corner of third west in Snowpoint. It was a short-lived, but wonderful time for me. I had a few stock items to be certain, but just about everything was custom-made by yours truly. I would even come up with designs by contract, a few different chains picking up my orders - goodness those discussions were stressful. But all in all, I did pretty well for myself. The support from the town was wonderful, but over time the orders began to really pile on. I was doing all the clothing work myself, after all. That's not to say I didn't have employees. Heavens no. I had a rotating pair of cashiers, as well as two delivery boys, so that certainly made things a lot smoother for me. But, the dream was rather short lived. After nearly six months of success, the orders piled on so much that I… found myself away from home most nights, often falling asleep in my office. Nero suggested that perhaps I was spending a bit too much time at work and… well, I certainly felt it. As much as I loved my job, I missed my daughter, and as it stands, life is simply too short for me to waste a minute of it away at a job. I don't have the luxury of living as long as humans do.

Just six months and I had made my sale. All of the effort and productivity resulted in a considerable net gain, however. Being able to outright sell my products away, rather than simply letting them go to waste after the fact helped matters immensely, and I ended up with more money than I had gone into it. And once again I settled down. Despite the… growing turmoil between Nero and myself, as yet still he would disappear on occasion. And still I would never question his whereabouts or his reasoning. I simply allowed it to happen. As a result, all of those same psychological issues began to creep back in.

One night I found myself asleep on the couch in the lounge, even though I know for certain I had gone to bed in my own room. A few of the cupboard doors were ajar in the kitchen as well, and I knew. I knew what keeping all of this to myself was doing to me. And yet I was… so afraid to tell anyone. Including my own mate. Thinking back on it I… don't know if I fully trusted him enough to tell him. Perhaps that was all my fault. But I had to keep it a secret somehow. Yet at the same time, I needed closure of some kind. I knew it was only going to get worse.

I confronted him. Perhaps my greatest mistake was in thinking he would be forward and willing - he never was. Not since I'd met him was he aggressive in any situation. He was never one to tackle things head-on. I talked to him about the concerns and fears I had felt ever since Dot's conception. And how… I never quite felt like he was all there, nor that he was telling me whether or not I was doing my part. I wondered if it was my fault for his constant disappearances. And yet, he simply avoided all of it. Quick to dismiss and take all the blame, yet… nothing changed. Not a few months later, he was off again, leaving me to my own devices. I don't know if I had it in me to keep things a secret anymore. Yes I had my sweet little girl with me still, but it didn't stop the recurring night terrors or the sleepwalking. And I…

I almost made such a grave mistake that night…

I panicked, and I took nearly an entire bottle of anti-anxiety medication in mere hours… It wasn't helping fast enough. Not until I fell asleep.


	9. Ninth Entry - February 25th, 2018

**February 25th, 2018**

So, big surprise. I… omitted something incredibly important from Friday's memoir. I probably should have included it but… either way, I think this is going to take a lot out of me to write, as it was yet another… truly awful experience that I cannot hope to get out of my head. But it must be discussed. There isn't a whole lot to what happened but, it was rather important nonetheless.

In January of 2015 I took a small three-week job to take care of an apartment in Hearthome for a coordinator who was staying in town for some big festival of sorts. I don't entirely recall those details specifically. I do know her name was Dawn, and she was awfully sweet to me. She paid very generously, and allowed me to take up room and board there while keeping everything clean. She was out most hours of the day, so the few interactions I had were with her Pokemon, whom I also cooked for. My family stayed in Snowpoint for the time being, of course. I wasn't about to drag them halfway across the region for three weeks only to cram them into an apartment much smaller than even our home.

Now what was so eventful about this little adventure of mine? Well, nothing really. Not to start. I did my part, worked around the clock to keep things in order and earn that incredibly generous pay I was being given, and… that was about it. Until the third week, in which Nero decided to make the trek down south and pay me a visit, with the intention of bringing me home once all this was over. Of course I knew this was going to happen. This wasn't just some decision he made. That was never the issue.

It was just… after he arrived. The two of us made a quick run to the market to grab a few things for that night's dinner, and I decided to take a small detour to a fruit stand while Nero fetched the milk.

And then I saw him, or at least, recognized someone that resembled him. Michael was there, in the market. Mind you, he looked like a shadow of his former self. His hair was a mess, as though he had just woken up. And he had… sores on his face. His eyes were red, he looked tired he… he looked simply terrifying. Not even in the morning after finishing an entire case of beer the night before did he look so out of sorts. Nothing even close. It was so alien to me, to see him that way. And I suppose I stared for too long, because he saw me as well.

He stormed toward me. I tried to quickly duck away back into the crowd, but who was I supposed to fool, least of all him? I always stick out like the sorest of thumbs. He gained on me quickly, grabbing me by the-

...Grabbing me by the arm and hurrying me into a nearby alleyway. Of course I struggled. I was absolutely terrified. I thought, in that very moment, this was his opportunity to hurt me. To exact his revenge on me. For testifying against him, even though I had every right. I still stole his life away. I took it all because he hurt me. He hurt a lot of other people and Pokemon too, of course. But I reaped the benefits, even though… I deserved none of that really. Nobody did. And here he had me by the arm, his grip firm like a vice. I called out indiscriminately at the time, and he was quick to put his other hand over my muzzle. Thinking back, it didn't even cross my mind to call out for Nero, but I digress.

He led me through what was likely the back door of a warehouse unit, still ajar with a broken chain dangling from it, likely the only thing that held it in place before it had been clearly cut through. The room was incredibly small, a few crates and containers lining the walls, and a much more massive, but still sealed door cutting us off from what was likely the rest of the warehouse. It was quiet, it was discreet, it was a mess, and it was the perfect place for him to do whatever he was about to do that I feared so greatly. Finally releasing me, he yanked the door shut, the flimsy latch clicking in the process.

Yet, as soon as he had done that, before he'd even turned around, he fell to his knees and broke down. He wasn't aggressive, he didn't lunge at me or hurt me further. He simply cried. I merely stood there for the time being, afraid to approach him. I had nowhere else to go, as he kneeled right before my only escape route. His sobbing was inconsolable, muttering words I couldn't even understand. I had seen him shed a tear only a few times before this. He usually possessed such a calm and stoic personality, and yet here he was blubbering mess, unable to even form coherent sentences.

After what felt like several minutes of this, he finally turned around with his arms outstretched, beckoning I… hug him. Still the tears rolled down his cheeks even as he asked, but I stood my ground. I couldn't go anywhere near him. I didn't trust him. And even as I shook my head, he wept harder, almost like a child. Finally, as he put his head in his hands I heard him whisper "I'm sorry," over and over. For yet more minutes on end he repeated this, up until he began to settle down, regaining somewhat of a hold on his composure, finally able to speak again.

"Alright, I won't touch you, Nanani." was the first thing he said. I was still standing there, not having moved a muscle since he released my arm, as much as I wanted to retreat into one of the corners of the room behind a box or… something. He continued, however, talking about how he had gotten here in the first place. His admission was first, telling me up front about all the things he had done that even I didn't know about. He told me how… crime had simply been a part of his life since he was a teennager, and it was all he knew. He told me about how he had managed to escape his final warrant, and even at this moment in time continued to evade capture. He told nothing but the truth, from what I could tell. Perhaps I'm not the best at reading lies on someone's face, but his showed no hesitation. No fear or apprehensiveness in what he said. He was very upfront, even though I never asked a single question. But I did listen. Very intently at that.

Then, he ended all of this with one final apology. This time, not even for my forgiveness but… he told me that I had to know that none of this was my fault. And, even though I thought I had convinced myself of such a notion so long ago… perhaps I wasn't so convinced.

I cried too.

Several minutes later, he told me one last thing. He told me that… he had no intention of spending his life behind bars. He told me his… life was over. And that was when I finally spoke. I told him he could still make good on the things he had done, try and make up for his mistakes or… simply serve his time.

And that's when he drew a knife. I must admit, all the fear returned the instant I saw steel, but it wasn't because of what I had said. I could hear scratching at the door, quickly followed by a furious bark. Nero was on the other side. He had tracked us there, somehow. And as Michael turned the knob, I panicked. I figured he would attack Nero, or even the other way around I

I don't know what I was thinking at this moment. All I know is what happened.

Michael saw an Umbreon pushing through the small opening in the door as he pulled it open. In a flash, he looked to me with an expression I had then confused for panic, but now I know it was something much deeper. He then dropped the knife, and clutched his hands to his chest as Nero lunged for his neck. He didn't… even try to stop the attack. And then he was gone. That was it.

I only remember staring on in utter disbelief, frozen where I stood. Nero hurried toward me immediately after… doing what he had done, but I didn't hear a thing he said. I was in such a legitimate shock I… even now I can't remember what happened next in that moment.

I do recall returning to the apartment. I do recall the many night terrors I experienced in the following weeks. I recall filing yet another report on behalf of… Nero, and Michael. I had to prove that… Nero had simply rescued me. And I wish… I wish I hadn't. I know it's what Michael wanted. He accepted his fate, and I suppose I've accepted it as well.

But, even still. He was murdered. And I was witness to it. No such thing that ever happened in my life - nothing he put me through haunts me quite as much as this moment does to this very day.


	10. Final Entry - February 26th, 2018

**February 26th, 2018**

So, I ended Friday's entry on a bit of an… unfortunate and unintentional cliffhanger. However, upon reflection, I could not continue without talking about the events in yesterday's entry. And thus I've truly messed with the chronology of this entire project even more than I already had, but I suppose it will have to do. These last few pages will cover the most recent chapter of my life. Moreso… how my life is the way it is now. And, thankfully, I have almost nothing but positive things to say from here on out. I am happy now. Believe me. Truly and utterly overjoyed with the way my life has turned out. Allow me to explain why.

Emptying that bottle had quite the adverse side effects, obviously. Fortunately I was in no mortal danger, but it seems I did experience a blackout, as well as another bout of memory loss. The immediate effects were rather severe, actually. I had lost much of my spatial awareness, entirely unsure of where I was at the moment, and I panicked. I retreated to the home I knew, that being Michael's old place, now cold, dusty and dormant after years of neglect, and once again I had nobody to turn to. Nero had disappeared on me again, and Dot - ...Oh, poor Dot was simply terrified. I had no idea at the time… her mother simply walked out in a fit, unsure of where she was or what she was doing…

I've been over this in the past, but still it haunts me. I'm simply… grateful everything turned out okay in the end. I spent what must have been more than a week in that manor. Sleeping in the shivering cold. Mind you, this was merely days before Christmas as well. Such an awful time to be in such a state, but here I was… Alone, afraid and without a clue. And so I… took an initiative. With the holidays just around the corner, perhaps I could take advantage of the situation and apply my services elsewhere to take the workload that comes with the holidays off of someone else. I put up a listing online via a computer at the Snowpoint library and… much to my surprise, within hours I received a call. His name was William, an incredibly wealthy pokemon trainer from all the way out in Johto. An entirely different region. I didn't think my resumé was that impressive. Nevertheless, he had the means of travel and could bring me there in a flash. To my understanding he had a very large home, and could use plenty of extra help. Of course I was happy to oblige, especially after being told my pay and… I was off to Johto in an instant.

I should add that William is also an incredibly powerful psychic, so much so that he's a member of what I believe is called by interested trainers the "elite four," and as such, all manner of fancy tricks such as mind reading, manipulation and teleportation are second nature to him. Hence why I arrived so quickly. And goodness me, he was not exaggerating in regards to the sheer size and scope of his home. It positively dwarfed Michael's residence, made up of four massive floors. I'll spare you the full layout of the home, as at times even now I lose myself in its many rooms in hallways. I could write an entire entry on the floor plan alone, not to even mention the gardens and the pool house. So we'll skip that. That said, from the moment I saw it, I recognized how beautiful it was. The stonework on the exterior is positively exquisite, with the interior like that of a massive lodge. Every room has such personality to it. But again, passing on by that, I certainly had my work cut out for me. I settled into my work rather quickly, still entirely unaware of the things I had left behind. This was the first time I had suffered from such a complete form of amnesia. Usually the details always trickled back to me but… I had genuinely forgotten my home, my family, my mate. All of it.

Now, this is when things get rather complicated, so bear with me. You see, there's a very good reason Master William (and I assure you, I have absolutely no second thoughts referring to him as such) resides in relative seclusion, or at least there was for a very long time. At first I thought he had a sort of split personality, but it was soon explained to me that he in fact was… possessed. By a demon no less. I had seen and heard my fair share of tales in my life, so I didn't question it at first, even if I didn't entirely believe it. But sure enough, when said demon took over, Master William would go dormant for a few days, as Terror (mind you, this is the name he was given by William) would take over for the time being. The contrast in personalities was certainly something to behold at first. Master William is so gentle and eloquent, yet mysterious and captivating in the way he speaks. Meanwhile, Terror is quite the opposite. He's bold, he's crude, and I can assure you he possesses absolutely no filter. "Toots" is what he called me, long before I even gave him my name, though he already knew it apparently. Even when Terror wasn't in control of their collective body, it seemed he was listening. Anyway, he still calls me that, among other things. I'll… be sure to gush a little more later. I must say I rather liked it, much as I was taken aback by how impolite he was. I had never met someone who talked the way he did, with utter disregard for decency. And it was and still is incredibly charming.

Now with Terror in mind, I was… occasionally visited by males even still, this time of the Johto variety. It's funny how no matter where I go, no matter how isolated, they seem to come around regardless. But anyway. Mind you, I was at this moment in time, fully established in my role as the pretty little housekeeper, and happy to do it. In this environment I was definitely flirted with more than I had ever been before, and… what can I say? I enjoyed it quite a bit. Happy to oblige to a bit of playful fun. Sometimes it went a little further, but… much to my shock at the time, this greatly upset Terror, who was conversing with me more frequently as the weeks wore on. Master William even remarked that Terror was… incredibly difficult to keep dormant at the time. I soon figured out how smitten he was, as I would often find roses tucked away in various nooks around the manor. Though he never let down his incredibly brash demeanor, he certainly… softened to a degree whenever I was around.

That is, until Nero turned up. With Dot in tow, no less. He had tracked me down through a bit of digging and asking around Snowpoint. Mind you, this was well over a month later and I… I didn't recognize either of them even upon seeing their faces. Nothing quite clicked with me, not yet anyway. That said, Master William allowed them to stay at the manor for the time being as… Nero made efforts to have me remember him. In time this would prove fruitful but, I recognized what it did to Terror. He was very shut away and contentious during this period, and how could I blame him? Especially due to the fact that… at least in his own words, he had never fallen in love with someone before… me.

A-anyway, I… I eventually did - and I'm not sure if I had any residual help - but I did slowly but surely begin to recognize their faces. Dot's and Nero's, at least. It took weeks of prodding and… relearning about myself, hearing things I had supposedly never heard, but this instilled within me a very different change. My love for my daughter returned, but… my love for my mate did not. In remembering everything I had forgotten, I realized how… neglectful he was. And you might say, what neglectful mate would ever venture across regions to find their loved one? I honestly couldn't answer you that even now. But it wasn't a life I wanted to return to. I was so much happier there in that manor, with my newfound family. Master William and his dear sweetheart of a Typhlosion in Agnes, and of course Terror. I… I knew from that moment that's who I was in love with. I didn't see Nero as someone I loved. In fact, I think I lost that feeling in me years before. I just didn't know where else to go, or how to want something better for myself. Again, this… may certainly come off as selfish. But, I was truly unhappy up to that point in my life.

In what could only be described as a fit, Nero ran off as soon as I had announced my decision. Once again, I'll spare you the drama, but we worked things out, and Master William brought him home in time. Dot stayed with me at the manor where I could continue to raise her as I always had. Granted, the details were still quite fuzzy, and through Master William and Dot's help, it took me many months to regain most of what I know. I believe now, clarity isn't an issue, but this loss of memory was very long-lasting effect. So much so that… even now I can hardly remember so many once-familiar faces.

Again, I digress. Let me backpedal a bit more, and talk some more about Terror. There is still a… lot to say about Terror. In the confusion of… everything that happened regarding Nero, Terror thought I had chosen him. It's a bit complicated, but for a brief moment I did chase after him, if only to reassure him. As such, Terror closed himself off entirely, retreating into a dormant state through which I couldn't even talk to him. Master William and Agnes both assisted me in this regard, as I certainly had a lot to say now that I had made such a big decision. Through the mysticism that is Terror - remember, he is in fact a demon - there is a small vessel through which to contact him that Master William only refers to as the jade orb. Think a lightweight glass ball the size of a soccer ball. Jade in color, naturally. It's used as a means to talk to him, but also to tether him to whatever body he is currently possessing, unable to totally assume control, nor escape.

With a tap on the glass, I begged for him to come out so we could talk, and much to my surprise, this wasn't a very difficult thing to do, as inconsolable as he seemed. The very first thing I did was… confess my love to him. I had to let him know that he was in so many ways the sort of man I needed in my life. He was more than happy to return the sentiment and… well, it goes beyond that. Not days later, he asked me to marry him. Sudden, I know.

He said, he wanted to have me in his life forever, plain and simple. To never let me go. And, who am I kidding? I was happy. I didn't want to leave either, even if we had only known each other for a few months. There was and still is no place I'd rather be than here, in this manor. Living this life for the remainder of my days. And it would be nothing short of an adventure.

So naturally, with all this in mind, I said yes.

At face value, allow me to…. contextualize things for a moment. I was not in any sort of romantic love or affiliation with Master William, heavens no. That said, the being I was and am still in love with possessed a human body at this time. And as far as the both of us knew, that's just how it was always to be. I could only have Terror when he had control of that body. Terror was essentially imprisoned in Master William's body for deeds he had committed many years before. This was… certainly frustrating for the both of us, of course. But we were willing to make things work for one another. As such, intimacy is called into question, and I must say I see no… moral line being crossed as a result. I was never in love with a human. I was in love with Terror. And everyone else around us viewed the situation as the same. I can't deny the… awkwardness of it at first, long before he proposed, but I got over such notions as soon as he had done so. Keep this in mind as I explain what happened next.

So, Terror and I always took advantage of our limited time together whenever Master William allowed him such. I must add, I felt such a deep empathy for Master William, not being able to have full control of his body at all times. How awful that must feel. Always I tried to consider this even as I craved to be with the one I loved. But, again, it's just how things were. Never could the both of them be active and awake at the same time as the other. So, with that said… one of our nights together resulted in… pregnancy of all things.

Believe me, every last one of us were even more shocked than you might be in reading this. After all, even at that moment in time I believed - all of us believed I was simply a peculiarly-built Glaceon. Interbreeding with anything outside of a Glaceon's natural egg group seemed like an impossibility. And yet, here I was, expecting all over again. Questions were abound, but nevertheless, we simply accepted it. Mind you, Terror was much less calm than I was. And Master William, in all his great intelligence and wisdom was rather puzzled as well. So, he sought out his many connections, and found answers in the Aether Foundation. His first contact was Miss Wicke herself, and as it turns out, the Foundation knew a great deal more about me than even I did. So, even in the midst of my pregnancy, we planned a trip to Alola to get some answers.

Upon arrival, I was very surprised to be greeted with such a warm welcome, as if everyone there already knew me. The hospitality was incredible from the start, and it was incredibly apparent that I was not so peculiar a sight to the staff there. As Miss Wicke would soon inform myself and Master William directly, I was a product of a laboratory experiment. Back in 2010, the Aether Foundation conducted a sweep and retrieval of hundreds of Pokemon just like me who were in much more dire situations than I. The institution I was born from had filed for bankruptcy after many of its own staff were incriminated and arrested for various illegal activity regarding the… inhumanity of the experiments that went on at SIPR. I was in fact, one of the luckiest ones, it seems. Many of the pokemon living there at the time of the company's downfall were simply euthanized… It was such a dreadful tale. But in the process of their sweep, the Aether Foundation had recovered thousands of records, including my own regarding the success and failure of certain subjects. Mine was… not too terribly extensive, but I was rather shocked to learn all about my heritage as well as my genetics. To put it frankly I'm… in many ways as much a human - or more accurately a primate - as I am a Glaceon. Several hundreds of generations of selective breeding and genetic mutation for very specific traits is how I came to be. Hence why… well, my own options for interbreeding were vastly increased as a result. Thus… how Terror was able to impregnate me. I learned many other things, of course, up to and including what happened to my immediate biological family… how I have many more siblings still alive and living in homes across the world… How some of my own biological children, those I had but was never able to meet because of Michael… how they too were relocated and safe. Everything about my past was finally unraveled in these few days I spent with the Foundation.

It was a lot to take in, but in more ways than not, it was so very relieving. I finally understood who I was ten years on. I had never known, I had never been told, and all at once it was revealed to me, and everything finally made sense. And now, I couldn't be prouder with who I am.

A few weeks on… Otto, my youngest son was finally born. With no amount of exaggeration I can assure you he literally shone with beauty on that day, and continues to now. He's such a darling little Eevee, and I couldn't have been - I still can't be more proud to have him. And to call Terror his father.

Life continued as normal after all of this, of course. Aside from having another Eevee to raise, at this point it wasn't very difficult anyway. Dot was well matured, ready and willing to help me at any and every turn should I ask. She was turning into quite the little handywoman herself, learning to cook and clean with much the same dedication I had when I was her age. Not to mention the rest of the household, of course, all willing to take turns with Otto whenever I was busy with one thing or another. We were, and still are… family. All of us. Not just Terror, Dot, Otto and myself. All of us had become family by this point. And we only sought ways to make one another happy. Master William's way of doing so was finding an alternative for Terror and I, which I'll get into in just a moment.

Terror and I were married on the first day of July. Just this last year. I can't believe even in writing this that it hasn't been a full year. It already feels like we've been together for a small eternity.

The honeymoon was lengthy, of course. Master William was rather wealthy, and spared no expense in ensuring we had a lovely time together. And, as a bit of an additional gift and… well, bypassing the rules he had been given, Master William contacted Miss Wicke again, and together they made a plan to… genetically produce a vessel for Terror. His very own body. *(Miss Wicke, if you could be so kind - and I'm sure you're well aware, but as a simple precaution, please omit this paragraph and the next from the final, published form, thank you).

When I heard that this was possible, you can imagine how overwhelmed with joy I was. Once again I was brought to the Foundation, this time with the intent to… choose what form Terror would take. A pokemon form, this time. I think we could all agree that this was the best idea. And so, I was given a few options. Knowing Terror as I did and… well, I do have a rather fondness for other vulpine pokemon, I chose the body of a Zoroark for him. Mind you, throughout all of this, Terror was strictly unaware. Master William made every attempt to hide this plan from him until the time was right. The process was… well, far more complicated than I could ever hope to explain. I'm not too well-versed on scientific terminology, as it were. I couldn't hope to tell you how they did it, but they did it. A fully formed, fully functional Zoroark vessel was procured and, through the tether that is the jade orb, we were able to give Terror his own body. As I said before, I do love Master William, but I must say, Terror was and still is infinitely more handsome in this way. Mind you, still quite a lot larger than I. The process of teaching him to treat his new body with love and care was the first real struggle, but I like to think I'm awfully persuasive, and motivating at that.

That was only six months ago, mind you. Since then not much has changed. Life has been relatively relaxing and wonderful. Dot evolved into a Glaceon, just like her mother. Of course, I couldn't be more proud. And, well… Terror and I - we're so very happy together. I wish I could expound upon more details, but I think the sheer fact that I have little else to say is evidence of the peace and happiness in our lives now. It's more than I can say for any other point in my life. I feel utter tranquility, and no real regrets looking back.

Despite everything I've been through in my life, I don't wish any of it hadn't happened. If anything, all of these experiences were a learning process for me. I've grown in ways I can't even begin to describe. No matter where I once was before, I now live in a large manor with a dear friend in Master William as well as Agnes, my dear husband Terror, who never ceases to make my life a wonderful adventure, and of course my two beautiful children. And I suppose, where I am now is what matters most, is it not? I can't speak for the other memoirs that the other survivors will write. I don't know them. But know that this one, for all its many speed bumps, resulted in a happy ending. Of course, I can't speak for what lies ahead, but I have a very good feeling about it all. Something I can't say I've ever felt before.

So, I suppose that's all I have left to say. Miss Wicke, thank you for giving me the opportunity to say the things I needed to say. I've never really had the opportunity to share these things with anyone before, and… simply having the excuse and platform to do so has lifted an incredibly weight off of my shoulders, even if recounting these events has been rather troubling. I have many more years ahead of me yet, it seems, and perhaps one day, I'll be able to give another recounting, should my life evolve further. But for now, if you ever need me, inquire about the Glaceon maid living at the lone manor up beyond the Lake of Rage in Johto. I'm more than happy to talk to and share my story with anyone.

With love, Nanani


End file.
